Bonus Scene
by Azul Archer
Summary: "Hello, my name's Antonio, and we're supposed to pretend to talk and know each other. What's our first subject?" "I'm Lovino, and I guess, if we have to, we could talk about how messy your hair is, like, goddamn. How can you possibly comb it in the mornings?" How bad can being an extra in a movie be?


For the umpteenth time that day, Lovino wondered if it was worth it to go through with this "acting" idea. The paycheck would definitely help out with various house bills, but pretending to talk to a complete stranger would surely prove more problematic than any money the producers might give him. If he was being honest with himself, he would have preferred staying at home and eating leftover takeout while watching random TV dramas. Nonetheless, Lovino decided attempting to deny his fate would prove fruitless.

Lovino walked around, confusion clear on his face as he attempted to find the chair with the number the director had assigned to him. There were dozens of people in the same room as him, resulting in double the number of places he had to look. It didn't help matters that no one there appeared to have the tiniest bit of order, Lovino being constantly pushed or shoved around by the other extras.

 _Maybe if there was just someone with a clipboard, then certainly things would be done faster_ , he thought bitterly to himself. _Honestly, did they really expect a group of people to just magically know exactly where they should be seated, in a place they've never been to before?_

There was a loud beeping noise that caused everyone, Lovino included, to turn around. His eyes met with a lady who held a megaphone in her hand, her demeanor demanding everyone to give their undivided attention.

"Okay, everyone, the actors are on their way from the makeup trailers, so I expect everybody to be in their spots by the time they arrive! Everyone who isn't quick enough will be fired on the spot and escorted out. You have T minus thirty seconds starting… now!"

She might as well have started turned the set into a battlefield, everyone suddenly pushing and running around in a panic trying to find their designated spot. Lovino winced at the amount of pulls and tugs, knowing he'll be seeing a number of bruises when he got back home. If it already wasn't tough enough for him to find his spot, now it would be like trying to find a pin in a haystack. He rushed around frantically, his search for this one chair proving more difficult than trying to get his brother of of bed.

"Ten seconds!"

Lovino paled. At this rate, a security guard would drag him out and he would be forced to live the rest of his days replaying the embarrassing moment. He scrambled about, feeling like a mice in a maze.

"Hey, twenty-seven! Over here!" Someone called out. Lovino whipped his head around, finding a man sitting alone at a two-seat table. Lovino looked down at his shirt, the number 27 pinned to the shirt pocket. He looked back up, pointing a confused finger at himself and lifting an eyebrow.

"Yes, you! Your seat's right here; come on before you run out of time!"

At that moment, a piercing voice called out, "Three seconds left!" At that moment, Lovino's brain had shut down, only focusing on running past tables and pushing people out the way to get to his chair. He ended up tripping and falling unceremoniously into his chair, but at that moment, a large buzzer went off, leaving Lovino relieved and few people panicked, realizing they had run out of time. But at the moment, Lovino couldn't care less for them, happy with the fact he had made it to his spot in time.

"Hey, sir? You should probably sit up right before the cameras start rolling. The main actors already arrived," the man, who had helped Lovino, called out, grabbing his attention. He widened his eyes in embarrassment, sitting up and ripping the number off his shirt, knowing it was unneeded now. On the back of his mind, he noted the man held a thick Spanish accent.

As Lovino smoothed down his messy hair, he looked up to the guy sitting in front of him. "Yeah, thanks for helping me out. I do not feel like being embarrassed by being carried out by these security guys." He offered a small grateful smile, looking at the man who, if he had to admit to himself, wasn't entirely bad looking.

The man would have responded if there wasn't a loud voice cutting him off. "Alright, is everyone in their position?" There was a chorus of yeses and nods. "Okay then, actors, you know what to do. Extras, just pretend to have a conversation with the people near you. Do not be too loud where the mic can pick up what you're saying, got it? Action!"

The stranger sitting across from Lovino looked towards him, a slight grin on his face. "Hello, my name's Antonio, and we're supposed to pretend to talk and know each other. What's our first subject?" Antonio leaned his elbow against the table, looking towards Lovino with interested eyes.

Lovino leaned back in his seat, sure his surprise was evident on his face. This man was straightforward, obviously, and Lovino wasn't prepared for the sudden invitation to talking. He was doing this for the money, not to be social with people. But, then again, he supposed being an extra meant being forced to interact with others. With that thought, he sighed and looked towards Antonio, noting how green his eyes were.

"I'm Lovino, and I guess, if we have to, we could talk about how messy your hair is, like, goddamn. How can you possibly comb it in the mornings?" Antonio lightly laughed, pointing towards his head.

"This thing? And to think, I believed I was having a good hair day. You, on the other hand, should not be commenting on people's messy hair." Lovino straightened his back, offended at the remark of his hair. Sure, the man was right, but he couldn't help but be offended at the bluntness of the fact.

Lovino crossed his arms, absently reaching a hand up to smooth down his hair, and pointedly looked at Antonio, attempting to quell the rising annoyance he was beginning to feel. "Well, excuse me for fighting my way past people and not looking like the perfect model for American Eagle." He scoffed, looking off to the side.

Antonio waved his arms in an embarrassed motion, before reaching a hand to awkwardly scratch at his neck. "I didn't mean to offend you, I just had to find a way to continue the conversation. In my opinion, I feel it worked, wouldn't you?" He smiled nervously, looking towards Lovino. "If it helps, why don't we talk about something different?"

Lovino looked to him out the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow at the nervous gestures. "He finally let out a breath, uncrossing his arms. _Might as well get this over with_ , he thought. _How long is this scene, anyways?_

"Alright, since you seem so apologetic, which you should be," Lovino started, pointing a accusatory finger at Antonio. "Let's talk about where you're from. Spain, I'm guessing?" Lovino would soon regret asking that.

As if a dam had broken inside Antonio, he suddenly went on a rant about his home-country, which Lovino had been right about. He covered practically every topic, from his grandparents who raised him, to how he moved to America (apparently for cheaper living), even to miniscule details such as how his 3rd grade talent show kept him from pursuing a dancing career.

Lovino sighed, leaning his head against the palm of his hand, growing tired from listening to Antonio talk relentlessly about his life. "How about you just write me a damn autobiography and save me the torture of hearing you talk for the next three years."

Antonio suddenly stopped, his hand going back to scratch at his neck. _Is this a nervous habit of his, or what?_ Lovino thought.

"Sorry, I got off track, huh? Yeah, I tend to do that. I've been told to work on it by my friends; even family? But I never seen to listen and, wow I'm doing it again, aren't I?" Antonio looked to Lovino, who had begun picking his nails out of boredom.

Not bothering to look up, he replied, "Yup. We could get through this entire scene with you just carrying the entire conversation." He looked up and was surprised to see Antonio's face so close, him leaning across the table.

"Tell me about you, then. Where are you from? What's your favorite color? What kind of music do you listen to? Any siblings? Favorite food?" Antonio listed off, his eyes growing more wide with each word that left his mouth.

Lovino had to collect himself for a few moments before looking back to Antonio. "Okay, uh, Italy. Green. Anything that doesn't sound dumb. I'm a twin. Tagliatelle. Anything else?" Lovino had to admit, Antonio sure was as curious as he was talkative. He just hoped he wouldn't ask for his number so they could be "best friends".

"Oh wow," Antonio sat back. "You're a twin? From Italy? Your life sure sounds exciting." Lovino felt his face go warm at the accidental compliment.

"Like being from Spain isn't less exciting. I bet you play guitar."

Antonio's jaw dropped, his eyes wide. "How'd you know?!" Lovino facepalmed.

 **And that's all. God, I need to sleep. I got this from a tumblr prompt I won't bother putting a link to. See ya in the next chapter.** **You can also find this story at under the same username.**


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